


Like Courting Swans

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Courting Rituals, Kaer Morhen, Love Confessions, M/M, Relationship Advice, Romantic Fluff, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24182455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Eskel has been pining for decades with nothing to show for it still. So when he meets Jaskier and sees how happy the bard has made his brother, he decides to enlist his help to charm the prickly wolf that holds his heart.
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 213





	1. A Matter of The Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be a one shot fic but it turned out to be really long so I’ll be posting it in chapters!

Kaer Morhen’s library was always a lovely place to be when one needed a bit of peace and quiet from rampaging wolves.

Jaskier did very much enjoy watching Geralt and his brothers run about the keep, playing their games and being adorable, wonderful witchers all together, but there were moments when he really did require a bit of silence in which to compose new songs.

Now was certainly one of those times, and he’d sought out the library for a nice cozy place to sit and strum on his lute, his journal open at his side while he tested various lyrics.

“Oh lily, oh wolf of the valley,  
Two faces your white petals boast,  
One poison, one fair,   
Oh, suitors take care!   
Be sure of the flower you’ve chose...”

Footsteps coming down the stone hall toward the library drew the bard’s attention, and he looked up from his work, expecting someone to join him. When no one did, he was a bit confused. It was as if someone had taken the trouble to walk all the way to the library just to stand at the door.

“Hello?” Jaskier called out. “Geralt? Vesemir? You aren’t disturbing me, I promise! Do come in!”

The heavy wooden door slid slowly open, screeching against the stone of the floor. Jaskier was surprised, though pleasantly so, to see Eskel peeking into the room.

“Ah, Eskel, please join me!” He invited to scarred witcher, who seemed to be unsure of every step he took away from the door. Besides that, his head was held low and his posture stiffer than usual. He was nervous about something, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Eskel, my darling...” Jaskier gave him a pointed look. “Do sit down and tell me what’s going on. You look like someone tried to cook Lil’ Bleater into a stew.”

The large, dark haired witcher gave a grunt of acknowledgement and took a seat in one of the armchairs near Jaskier.

“Tea?” His brother’s paramour offered gently, setting aside his lute and reaching for the tray he’d borrowed from the kitchens. “Its nice and hot still. Full of lovely mint leaves from the greenhouse.”

Eskel nodded, accepting a cup when Jaskier handed it to him. “Thanks.” He sighed. “I probably look like I need it, huh?”

“Well, you said it, not me.” Jaskier confirmed, pouring some for himself as well. “Now, please, dear, tell me what’s troubling you so.”

Eskel took a sip of the minty tea and swished it around in his mouth, thinking and worrying, and just trying to string together a proper explanation for Jaskier. 

The bard waited, of course. By now he was accustomed to witchers and their difficulties expressing emotions verbally. At least this was Eskel and not Geralt. His beloved white wolf was certainly the worst of his pack when it came to such things. 

“I wanted your advice.” The flustered witcher muttered after awhile of contemplation. “It’s...It’s a matter of the heart, I guess you could say.”

Jaskier raised an inquisitive brow. “Do go on, my dear.” He urged Eskel. “You’ve certainly come to the right place for that sort of advice.”

The wolf smiled and gave a shaky chuckle. “Geralt and Vesemir wouldn’t know what to tell me.” He agreed.

“No, no, they certainly wouldn’t.” Jaskier hummed, pouring a bit of milk into his tea and stirring it in thoroughly. “Lambert couldn’t tell you anything about actual romance either. Perhaps some advice on seduction, but not love.”

Eskel swallowed hard, a blush rising into his cheeks.

Jaskier stopped his spoon and widened his eyes at the witcher. How on earth had he managed to miss something so blatantly obvious?

Everything made such sense now! The prolonged gazes over the dinner table, throwing gwent matches just to keep Lambert happy, always making sure that his brother’s cup was filled before he even realized he was running low on ale! 

“Oh, Eskel, you sweet, lovely man...” Jaskier smiled adoringly at the blushing wolf before him. “Does Lambert know? Have you told him?”

Eskel shook his head. “Wouldn’t be coming to you if I knew how to do that.” He sighed.

Jaskier sat his tea back onto its tray and sat up straight in his chair. “Well!” He declared. “I am going to help you, my darling wolf! Rest assured, you’ll know exactly how to approach the confession once we’ve finished these lessons!”

Eskel mumbled something under his breath that was completely unintelligible and shifted nervously in his seat.

“I’m sorry, dearest, what was that?” Jaskier asked gently. 

Eskel averted his eyes, the pink in his cheeks spreading across the rest of his face. “It’s not just telling him that scares me.” He admitted again, a bit louder this time. “I...I don’t know if I’ll be good enough for him...I want to make him happy.”

Jaskier placed a comforting hand over Eskel’s much larger one. “My sweet, sweet Eskel,” He said reassuringly. “You have nothing to worry about there. I’ve seen the things you do for Lambert. You’re always the first at his side after a bad fit. You’re careful to avoid the things that trigger his moods. I’ve heard you singing to him sometimes to calm him down.”

“Not enough.” Eskel grunted. “I mean what you do for Geralt...I...I’ve never seen my brother this way. He’s different now that he’s found you...You rub his back and wash his hair for him...It makes him happy, I guess. I want Lambert to be happy too.”

“Ofcourse you do, sweet witcher.” Jaskier nodded. “And I’ll teach you everything I know. I promise. You’re already off to a wonderful start so it shouldn’t take long.”

Eskel breathed a small sigh of what Jaskier hoped was relief.

...

“Oh, Geralt, it was so wonderful!” Jaskier smiled against his partner’s chest as they rested together in bed, warmed by layers of blankets and furs, and the crackling fire in the hearth. “Eskel’s such a darling, isn’t he? Oh, the poor dear’s so head over heels! It’s adorable!”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighed. “He’s been smitten for a long time.”

“Well, I’m going to make this happen for him.” Jaskier declared, propping his head up on his forearms to look into Geralt’s golden eyes. “You just wait and see, my love. By the end of the month, I’d wager, your darling brothers will be so besotted with one another that you and I might not be able to stand sharing a breakfast table with them.”

“Sounds perfect.” Geralt muttered, stroking his fingers through curly brown locks. “Just be careful. Don’t throw too much at Lambert at once. He gets frustrated.”

“Noted.” Jaskier hummed, snuggling against his wolf. “Not to worry. I’ll mostly just be dealing with Eskel. It’ll be much easier.”

...

It was not easier.

Eskel was a bit of a nervous wreck, Jaskier came to find, and though it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, the bard was having a difficult time trying to introduce any ideas of romantic strategy to the anxious witcher.

“Eskel, my dear, you look like you’re going to faint.” Jaskier told his pupil, gently placing his hand against a massive bicep. “Want to take a break? We can talk about something else for awhile.”

“I’m fine.” Eskel insisted, straightening up. “Go on. You were saying something about gifts.”

“Ah, yes!” Jaskier nodded, returning to his lesson once his student no longer looked as if he were going to be violently sick. “Now, as I’ve already mentioned, courting gifts are an essential step of showing one’s romantic intent. I think this will be a good place to start, seeing as you’ve already gotten the hang of little bouts of thoughtfulness on your own.”

“I didn’t really do much.” Eskel muttered. “Just looking after my brother.”

“Darling,” Jaskier sighed, gently touching Eskel’s blushing cheek. “I’ve never seen you “looking after” Geralt so keenly. Let’s not lie to eachother here. You tend to Lambert because you’re in love.”

Eskel grunted and gave a slow nod. 

“Very good,” Jaskier smiled triumphantly. “Now, courting gifts! This can be both neglected and overdone, so finding a happy medium is key. Just a handful of presents over the course of the next month should be fine. What sorts of things does Lambert like?”

“Booze.” Eskel replied immediately, a smile playing at his lips. “That and weapons.”

Jaskier was honestly a bit puzzled but he managed to work with the information Eskel had given up. “Do you know how to mull wine, Eskel darling?” He asked after throwing around a few ideas in his head.

Eskel shook his head. “I could learn.” He insisted. “Vesemir might know something?”

He did, as it turned out, though he was also a bit suspicious of Eskel’s motives. Perhaps the sweating palms and blushing red cheeks had given him away.

In any case, the old wolf agreed to teach his pup what he knew. Jaskier suspected that Vesemir knew exactly what was going on, and the fact that he was onboard with their plans was just marvelous.

“Lambert will enjoy that.” The elder witcher smirked as he left Eskel to tend to the rest of the wine on his own.

He did. He enjoyed it very much, in fact.

“Vesemir hasn’t made this stuff for years.” Lambert hummed, sipping greedily from the goblet that Eskel had filled for him when they’d sat down to play their usual round of gwent after dinner. “What brought this on, Eskel? Feeling sentimental?”

Jaskier listened carefully from the common room with Geralt and Vesemir, pretending to have his interests invested in a book in his lap.

“Just thought you’d like it is all.” Eskel replied, making the bard want to squeeze him up in the tightest hug he could manage. He was doing so well already!

...

“I’m very proud of you.” Jaskier smiled when Eskel joined him again in the library the very next evening. “Flawless on the execution, my dear! I couldn’t have done any better myself.”

Eskel’s face was quickly pinking up again, but he smiled as well. “It just felt right.” He shrugged, taking his seat to hear more of Jaskier’s wisdom. 

“Good.” The bard nodded. “That means that these feelings you have are real. Now, we’ve covered courting gifts, and it’s too soon still for another. I think we should move on to something a bit more advanced.”

Eskel raised a rather worried brow, questioning his instructor.

“Now, now, don’t look at me like that.” Jaskier tutted at him. “It won’t be too difficult. Not if the moment is right...you will need some practice though.”

“What are we talking about, exactly?” Eskel frowned. 

“Something that you wolves seem to have a rather difficult time with on your own.” Jaskier replied with all the confidence in the world. “A loving touch.”


	2. Gentle Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! :) It makes my day and inspires me to keep going with this! I appreciate every last one of you and you are wonderful!

“Geralt, you truly are a gorgeous specimen.” Jaskier smiled adoringly at his wolf, who was relaxed back against the rocky walls of the hot spring, head leaned back and throat bared so that Jaskier could give him a proper shave.

“Hmm.” The witcher hummed, letting go an easy sigh while his bard carefully ran the blade through the lather over his right cheek. 

Eskel watched with a careful eye from the sidelines, nervously stirring the water with his fingers as Jaskier continued on with the grooming of his brother.

“Eskel, darling, I want you to try the other side once I’m finished here.” The bard informed his anxious pupil, who grunted and gave a nod.

“Oh, you wolves and your lack of proper conversation skills!” Jaskier lamented and rolled his eyes, bringing the razor in his hand over the last bit of soap that covered his side of Geralt’s face. “Come here, Eskel, my love.” He beckoned then to the witcher watching behind them. “Geralt’s not going to bite you. If he were going to bite anyone, it would’ve been me long ago.”

Geralt smiled softly, reaching out with one hand and giving Jaskier’s hip a little squeeze. 

“Oi! Fuck off, you.” The bard squeaked at his wolf while he hurriedly yanked the other over to join them. “Be nice to your brother, dear heart.” He pleaded with Geralt. “And do hold still.”

“I promise.” Geralt chuckled, shifting in the water to get comfortable again. “Go on, Eskel. Make it nice and close, like the other side.”

“I know how to shave.” His brother growled, taking the razor from Jaskier and carefully beginning to scrape away any scruff from the white wolf’s unshaved cheek. 

The bard watched carefully over the Witcher’s shoulder, humming and shaking his head from time to time as Eskel worked. “Gentler.” He urged the wolf. “Remember, this isn’t some meaningless task you’re suffering through. You want to go slow. Make him feel like you love nothing more than looking after him.”

Eskel stopped and looked up at Jaskier with a bewildered expression. “It’s just a shave.” He reminded him. 

“Correct, my sweet wolf.” Jaskier nodded. “But even the most mundane of chores can be turned into something enjoyable for you both. Think of it like making love. You want to memorize every inch of his skin. Make him feel like every part of him is a treasure in your eyes. Every stroke of the razor should be slow and careful. You want him to know that you enjoy pampering him like this.”

Eskel blushed red this time, and it came up quite quickly. “Fuck...” He muttered, feeling a bit awkward as he tried to follow Jaskier’s instructions. If it were Lambert sitting here under his attentions now and not Geralt, things might be different.

“I would tell you to close your eyes and picture your lover instead of mine...” Jaskier spoke, picking up on Eskel’s embarrassment. “But considering the very sharp tool you’re using now, I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Do NOT close your eyes, Eskel.” Geralt muttered, tensing a bit under his brother’s hand.

“I won’t.” The scarred witcher assured his silver comrade, making sure Jaskier was still watching close as he made his last few strokes with the razor, finishing Geralt’s shave. “There. I guess that’s done.” He sighed, awaiting the instructor’s final ruling.

“Well done, my dear.” Jaskier applauded Eskel with pride. “It looks divine and your technique was certainly impressive in the end.”

Eskel managed a smile, though now that this was done, he assumed that Jaskier had other plans. “Got anything else for me today?” He asked, ready to tackle whatever the bard had ready to throw at him. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Jaskier nodded, climbing from the water to fetch his bag of bath essentials. “Now, I’ll want you to practice the shaving a few more times before you actually try with Lambert, but while we’re working on that, I think it’s time you learned how to wash his hair as well.”

Geralt peeked an eye open and gave Eskel a grin. 

“Fuck you.” His brother grumbled, earning him a soft chuckle. 

“Oh, my darling wolves, do play nice.” Jaskier sighed at them, stepping back into the steaming water with a bottle of oil in hand. “Move up, Geralt. Give me some room.”

The white haired witcher grinned and inched forward on his perch, making room for Jaskier to sit behind him.

“That’s my beautiful darling...” The bard hummed with an adoring smile, placing a few soft kisses against Geralt’s neck and face as he moved into position at his back. “You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s freshly shaved cheeks pinkened as he was lavished with his lover’s praise. 

“Be nice and still for me, darling.” The bard whispered into his Witcher’s ear as he opened the little bottle in his hands. “Let me give Eskel a proper lesson.”

“I’ll not move a muscle.” Geralt promised, sighing with content when he felt Jaskier’s hands, filled with fragrant oil, gently massage their way into his hair.

“You see how much he likes this?” Jaskier smiled over his shoulder at Eskel. “If you do it correctly, Lambert will enjoy it just as much.”

Eskel watched carefully, his eyes more focused on Geralt than Jaskier. His brother had gone limp against his lover’s back, a small smile on his ever sour face, and every now and again he would let out a pleased groan.

“So beautiful, Geralt.” Jaskier kept whispering little endearments to his wolf. “Such gorgeous hair...My strong, handsome witcher...You look like a dream, my darling...I love you so much...”

Every word off the bard’s lips seemed to have Geralt slipping further away into this odd state of peace. If they’d been bathing in a river, he looked as if he could’ve floated right away without even realizing it. He was just so at ease.

“Eskel’s going to swap places with me now, my dear.” 

Jaskier’s declaration brought the scarred Witcher’s focus back onto him entirely and he frowned, looking at the human with shameless doubt.

“Not to worry,” Jaskier promised anyway, beckoning him closer. “You can’t go wrong here, sweet wolf. Your brother loves you. He’s here to help you learn.”

“I want you to know these things.” Geralt hummed softly, confirming his bard’s claims. 

Slowly, and very unsure still, Eskel swallowed down his fear and came closer, switching places with Jaskier when it was asked of him.

“Both hands now.” The bard instructed, lounging in the water close by so that he could watch the witcher’s every move. “Don’t be afraid. Remember what we talked about? Let him know that you enjoy this.”

Eskel took in a deep breath, the calming scents of sandalwood and chamomile filling his head as he worked his fingers into Geralt’s snowy hair.

“Massage his scalp, darling.” Jaskier coached him. “That’s it. Don’t be scared. You won’t hurt him.”

“Not at all.” Geralt muttered. “Feels good, Eskel.”

“Yeah?” The larger wolf smiled hopefully.

“Hmm.” Geralt confirmed. 

“You’ll have Lambert purring for you in no time.” Jaskier nodded approvingly. “Just a few more practice sessions, I think. Then you’ll be ready to try it with him.”

Eskel’s heart hammered in his chest at the thought.

...

“You’ve been doing so well with Geralt, my sweet, darling wolf.” Jaskier beamed proudly at Eskel as they sat across from each other at the dining table. “I think now you’re finally ready for Lambert, but there’s something very important we must take care of first.”

Eskel’s eyes were wide and excited as Jaskier placed his bag filled with soaps and oils onto the table. Lambert would be in soon from patching the walls, and would most certainly need a bath. This was Eskel’s first chance to show him what all he’d learned from the bard.

“Eskel?” Jaskier recaptured his attention, tapping the wooden table in front of the witcher. “I know this is a big day for you, darling, but I need you to focus for just a bit longer.”

“Sorry.” The dark wolf blushed and sighed, shaky and eager.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jaskier promised. “Now, I need you to think for me, my darling. What scents would best suite your intended? Something that compliments his natural fragrance would be best, but keep in mind the smells that he likes as well. We’ll find a way to blend them, I’m sure.”

It was an odd question, but Eskel was surprised at how quick he was with gathering the answers Jaskier sought.

“He smells like Summer.” He told the bard. “You know what I mean? It’s a sort of fresh smell. Wild but sweet at the same time.”

“And they call me a poet.” Jaskier chuckled at the wolf. “That’s lovely, Eskel. Tell me more. I want to hear it all.”

“Honeysuckle.” The witcher blushed. “He smells like that. Honeysuckle and...The river. I always think of cold river water when I scent him. Grass too. Fresh green grass. Wheat fields. Wildflowers...”

Jaskier busied himself with his journal, taking down every note that Eskel offered up. “Brilliant.” He nodded. “Now, for the fragrances that he likes most. Can you tell me that, Eskel? I’m sure you must’ve noticed a few over the years.”

The witcher nodded, and again, hunting for a response wasn’t difficult at all. Fuck. He really was tangled up in a web here. All of these little things he could tell Jaskier about Lambert...

“He likes fruity things.” He told the bard. “Like that mulled wine we made for him. He likes oranges and lemons and stuff like that. But he likes sweet things too. Like cinnamon.”

Jaskier nodded, writing everything down. “Lovely.” He smirked. “I can work with this. Surely Vesemir will allow me access to the greenhouse for some supplies.”

Eskel sighed, chest quaking. “How long will it take to put something together?” He worried.

“Oh, sweet witcher, have no fear.” Jaskier assured him, taking one massive scarred hand in both of his own. “Papa wolf and I have been scheming together, you see. He’ll be keeping Lambert busy until the time is right and everything is prepared.”

Eskel’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, lovely, I told Vesemir everything.” Jaskier confessed to the unspoken accusation. “He wants this for you just as much as I do, you know. Apparently you and Lambert have been dancing around each other for years!”

Eskel couldn’t deny that. Of course Vesemir had noticed. The old wolf never missed anything when it came to his pups.

“Now, hear me out.” Jaskier continued to speak. “I think to start, a lovely blend of honeysuckle and citrus will do rather nicely for Lambert. What do you think?”

Eskel gave an approving nod. “Perfect.” He agreed. “I just hope he’ll...What if he doesn’t want me to...”

“Eskel.” Jaskier stopped him. “You need to stop doubting yourself, my darling.”

That was easier said than done of course, but Eskel was willing to try. He had to try. 

...

“I swear, the old man’s really got it out for me.” Lambert growled as he followed Eskel down to the hot springs. “How long were we out there trying to put the damn walls back together? It must have been twelve hours! We started at the ass crack of dawn!”

“I know. I know. Take it easy.” Eskel spoke gently to the younger witcher. “It’s been a long day. You’ll feel a lot better after a bath and a nap.”

Lambert began to undress as soon as they entered through the doorway that hid the springs from the rest of the castle. The sight of Geralt and Jaskier in the far pool only succeeded in souring his mood further. 

“Well, I guess we’ll have to watch Geralt and his songbird shagging away while we bathe.” He hissed as he unlaced his trousers.

“Bigger pool’s all yours.” Geralt growled in return, sending his brother a glare over Jaskier’s shoulder.

“What the fuck ever.” Lambert grumbled, stripping down to his skin and hopping into the hot water. “Come on, Eskel. I guess we’ll just have to try and ignore them.”

The larger wolf looked to Jaskier quickly, and the bard gave him a encouraging wink. Internally, Eskel was panicking, but he’d promised himself that he’d see this through. Lambert’s mood wasn’t going to stand in his way. He’d quelled similar ones before and he could do it again. Time was the key.

He allowed Lambert awhile to calm down, watching his posture and his face for signs that most of the day’s bitterness had seeped out of him. Then, and only then, did he push forward with his plans.

“Tryin’ to grow a beard, little wolf?” He chuckled at his brother, who ran a hand over his thick scruff and smiled.

“Guess it is gettin a bit long, huh?” He agreed. “I’m too tired to fucking bother though. Shaving can wait another few days.”

Eskel hummed and moved a bit closer through the water. “You’ll look older than Vesemir if it goes that long.” He reasoned. “Let me take care of it.”

Lambert scoffed, looking at his brother as if he’d just sprouted wings and a tail. “Since when do you shave faces that aren’t your own?” He laughed. “I think you’ve spent too much time around Geralt’s bard.”

Eskel shrugged, his smile only slight, but it was still there. “Just an offer.” He muttered. “Take it or leave it.”

“Alright, alright.” Lambert sighed. “Come here and whack off all of this bristle if it bothers you so much.”

Eskel jumped at the opportunity, getting out of the pool briefly to retrieve the razor and soap, and then sitting down on a rock near Lambert to begin his work.

“Lean back.” He told the young wolf. “And relax, alright? That’s it...”

Jaskier peeked curiously over Geralt, and the white wolf listened in as well.

“Don’t take all of it off, alright?” Lambert requested as his face was lathered up. “I’ll look awful without at least a little bit of scruff.”

Eskel smirked as he gently began the shave, taking the razor across Lambert’s cheek slowly. “You’d be a fuckin stunner no matter how much beard you had.” He assured his brother.

“Mmhm. I see what this is now.” Lambert smirked. “Eskel, Eskel, If all you wanted was to get into my trousers, all you had to do was ask.”

Eskel bit his lip, carefully continuing his work just as Jaskier had showed him. “That’s not all I want.” He hummed, moving the razor to the other side of Lambert’s face.

“Romantic old bastard.” The younger witcher teased, relaxing against Eskel’s touch. 

“Laugh all you want.” The older wolf chuckled, gently taking a bit of bristle from Lambert’s chin before he finished up. “There you are. Handsome as ever.”

Lambert had his eyes closed now as he reached up to stroke at his face. “Very nice.” He hummed. “I should make you my personal barber.”

“I’ll accept that offer.” Eskel blushed lightly as he made his way to get out of the water again. “Stay there. I’ve got something else for ya.”

Lambert hummed and rested back against the rocks.

Jaskier grinned with pride and nuzzled against Geralt’s as he looked on. 

“He’s doing so well.” He whispered.

“Shh.” Geralt smiled, pressing his face to the crook of Jaskier’s neck and scenting him. “Leave them be. I want your attention.”

“Impatient thing.” Jaskier snickered, running his hands down a broad, muscular back while Eskel was returning to the water with the oil he’d had made just for Lambert.

“Move up a little.” The scarred witcher requested, nudging Lambert gently to make room for him on the rocks.

“Hmm. This sounds promising so far.” The slightly smaller wolf hummed, scooting forward and allowing Eskel to sit down behind him, his legs closing around Lambert’s thighs on either side.

“Lean back now, Lamb.” Eskel requested, opening the bottle and letting the scent of honeysuckle and orange zest rise into the steamy air around them. Lambert took in a deep breath and carefully laid back against Eskel’s chest.

“Does Buttercup know you’re going through his oils?” He asked, catching the lovely aroma immediately. 

“He does.” Eskel smiled softly, pouring a handful of the sweet smelling concoction into his palm then setting the bottle aside. “I asked him to make this one for you. Thought maybe you’d like it.”

Lambert stiffened a bit when Eskel began to rub the oil into his hair.

“Why’d you do that?” He muttered. “Do I really smell that bad?”

“No.” Eskel promised, stroking slow and gentle through his brother’s short dark hair, just as he had practiced before with Geralt. It was different with Lambert. His hair was closely cropped, unlike Geralt’s flowing locks, but the rhythm wasn’t hard to modify.

“Hmmm.” There it was. A very satisfied groan. Eskel’s cheeks heated with a darker blush and his heart jumped into his throat.

“You nervous or something?” Lambert chuckled softly. “Your pulse is goin’ nuts, Esk.”

The elder wolf hummed, massaging his brother’s scalp with those massive fingers of his. “Maybe I just like you.” He shrugged. 

“Dumb if you do.” Lambert muttered, the stiffness in his muscles slowly being drawn out as Eskel scrubbed his hair. “Fuck, Eskel, that feels good...”

The scarred witcher could feel Jaskier smiling at him from across the room.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Lamb.” He whispered gently, carefully rubbing at the hairline that reached the back of the other wolf’s neck. “I could sit here like this forever.”

“Washing my hair?” Lambert muttered, nearly limp against Eskel’s front with a cheeky grin still on his face.

“Making you feel good.” Eskel corrected him. “I like to see you happy and peaceful.”

“Hmm.” Lambert groaned again, pleased with the devoted attentions he was being shown. “Eskel? When we’re done here, you and I are gonna go upstairs and make a mess of your bed.”

“Whatever you want, Lamb.” Eskel promised. 

...

“Fun night, Eskel?” Geralt grinned at his brother the next morning when the other wandered in for breakfast. 

“A gentle witcher never kisses and tells.” Eskel smiled softly, sitting down across from Jaskier, who was absolutely beaming.

“You are a wonder, sweet wolf!” The bard declared. 

“Not really.” Eskel shrugged. “I think he’s still got the idea that I just want his body and nothing else.”

“Easily remedied.” Jaskier assured the witcher. “Once you’ve finished your work for today, come find me again in the library. We’ll begin your next lesson.”


	3. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back, One Giant Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel unintentionally throws a wrench in Jaskier’s careful planning

“I love you.” 

Eskel whispered softly to the sleeping form beside him, watching as Lambert slumbered on, his chest rising and falling slowly with every breath he took.

It was so easy to say what he wanted when he was sure that no one was listening, but once Lambert woke, Eskel wouldn’t even remember how to put together the first word of that vital confession.

“I love you.” He sighed again at the sleeping witcher. “So much...Fuck, I just...I love you, Lamb...Want you to be mine...”

The youngest witcher stirred slightly, grunting as he began to wake.

Eskel’s heart clenched but he smiled when Lambert blinked one golden eye open and peered tiredly across the mattress at him.

“What’re you gawking at over there?” The dark wolf yawned, slowly opening his other eye to look at Eskel properly.

“Everything I’ve ever wanted.” Eskel whispered back, his mind failing him and his mouth jumping at the chance to drop the words he’d been wanting to speak for decades. His eyes grew wide and he stared at Lambert, who stared back at him.

“Fuck, Eskel...” The younger wolf growled after a long and painful silence. He sat up in bed, shoving the covers away from his body and reaching around for his discarded clothes. 

Eskel was up and reaching for Lambert’s arm as quickly as he could. “Lamb, come on, wait.” He pleaded. His brother shoved him off.

“Just leave me alone!” Lambert snapped. “Fuck, you can’t just say things like that...Dammit...” As soon as he was able to dress, Lambert bolted from the room, shutting the door behind him roughly.

...

“Oh, my poor sweet wolf,” Jaskier rubbed at Eskel’s back gently as the scarred witcher laid his head upon the dining table, hiding his face away from the bard and from Geralt.

“Eskel, he’s confused.” His brother sighed. “Give him some time to think.”

“No.” Eskel growled. “I ruined everything, dammit! All of it! I don’t know what the hell I ever expected from him...No one would ever want me for a mate. Especially not Lambert...He could have anyone. Why would he ever want me?”

Jaskier frowned. “You obviously have no idea what a glorious catch you are, sweet Eskel.” He hummed at the grieving wolf. “It’s like Geralt said. Give Lambert a little time to himself. Let him think. You’ve just dropped a massive bomb in his lap. He doesn’t know what to do with it yet.”

...

“Get down from there, pup.” Vesemir commanded his son, looking out the window of the old observatory tower to find Lambert sitting up on the roof, throwing loose stones violently into the nearest wall and watching them shatter upon impact. 

“Piss off, old man...” Lambert hissed, spitting his words and showing off razor sharp canines. 

“Lambert.” Vesemir warned him. “Get inside right this second. We need to talk.”

“Talk to fucking Eskel!” The young witcher snapped, throwing another stone so far that it missed the outer walls and disappeared into the forest beyond the castle. “He’s got so fucking much to say these days! I’m sure he’d make for much better company!” 

Vesemir reached out and grabbed his pup by the back of his vest then promptly yanked him back through the window and onto the observatory floor.

Lambert landed with a thud and a curse. “Fuck! What the fuck was that!?”

“I asked you twice, son.” Vesemir growled, arms crossed over his chest. “And you refused to listen. Now, sit there and let me say my piece or I’ll fetch up a good switch and take you over my knee.”

“The fuck you will!” 

“Lambert! Be quiet!” 

Lambert was grown now, a fully matured witcher, capable of taking down fierce, massive beasts that would make even the eldest, most battle hardened soldiers wet themselves with fear. Yet, when his old man snapped at him the way he did when he’d had enough of his constant shenanigans, Lambert still found himself cowering like a scolded dog.

“Eskel loves you.” Vesemir told his youngest son. “He always has.”

“He’s my brother.” Lambert muttered, biting his bottom lip to quell any threat of a sob. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Vesemir growled. “Why are you running from this, boy? Do you wanna be miserable forever?”

“Your fault!” Lambert snapped.

“Not this!” Vesemir insisted. “You have a choice here, pup! Nobody’s taking it away from you and only you can make it! You wanna keep acting the fool and pretend there’s nothing between the two of you, that’s your own damn mistake!”

Lambert clenched his fists together and hot tears filled his eyes, making it difficult for him to see until he blinked and let them fall down his face.

“I don’t deserve him!” He shouted at the old wolf, standing and throwing his fist into the nearest thing he could find. It happened to be a closet door and his fist went right through it, bloodying his knuckles. “Fucking bastard! What’s his fucking problem, huh!? Why’s he wanna have me for a mate!?”

Vesemir collected Lambert into his arms and held him tight before he could lash out again. His pup began to cry against his shoulder, hands gripping his father’s coat as if his life depended on hanging onto it.

“I’m no good!” Lambert snarled, mostly at himself and the wickedness he always felt lurking beneath his skin. “Everyone fucking knows that! Geralt knows! You know! Why can’t Eskel know it too!?”

“That’s a lie.” Vesemir sighed. “There’s a lot of good in you. I know that for a fact.”

“Fuck that!” Lambert continued to sob and Vesemir held him, patting his back as he cried. 

“Eskel knows that you’re hurting still.” He spoke gently to his pup. “He’s always been there for you, hasn’t he? Even when things get bad. At your worst moments.”

Lambert said nothing. 

“Don’t you think he would’ve stopped trying by now if he thought you weren’t worth the effort?” Vesemir asked.

Lambert pushed away from his father and wiped at his teary eyes. “I just wanna be alone now.” He pleaded. “Just please, leave me alone.”

Vesemir nodded and crossed the room to the stairs. “Dinner should be ready soon.” He told his pup. “You want Geralt to bring it up to your room?”

Lambert nodded and Vesemir agreed with a defeated sigh.

...

Jaskier and Vesemir sent Eskel up to Lambert’s room later that evening with a plate of hot food and as many words of wisdom and encouragement possible.

Jaskier had also handed over a single rose as a gift, but Eskel doubted that any romantic gestures would be welcome this night.

He swallowed hard and knocked upon the battered door, waiting and holding his breath with anticipation until Lambert answered, frowning when he was greeted with the sight of Eskel’s face instead of Geralt’s.

“Can I come in?” The larger wolf asked hopefully. “I brought your dinner. Vesemir said you weren’t feeling well.”

Lambert growled and moved out of the way, allowing Eskel into the room. He hadn’t said anything yet. What was he supposed to say anyway? Witchers weren’t taught to handle these sorts of things. Emotions were supposed to be bled out of them during the trials, but of course that was a load of shit.

“Lamb, I didn’t mean to spook you out like that.” Eskel sighed as he sat the tray he’d been carrying down on Lambert’s bedside table. “I wasn’t thinking...you weren’t ready to hear that.”

“You didn’t mean it.” The younger witcher huffed, sitting down on the edge of his bed, still avoiding Eskel’s eyes.

“Didn’t mean it?” Eskel scoffed. “Fuck yes, I meant it. Lambert, I...”

“Don’t.”

“No, I need you to hear me.” Eskel begged. “Lamb, I love you.”

“No...”

“I do! I have for years! I love you so fucking much...”

Lambert wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t.

“Lamb, I want to mate you.” Eskel admitted. “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.”

“You don’t know what your asking, you stupid prick!” Lambert finally snapped, turning to look into golden eyes that were so much like his own, but gentler and filled with everything that he lacked. “I’m not...Eskel, I’m not good. I’m not.”

“You’re wrong.” 

What was with these idiots? Did they not know a ruined man when they saw one? First Vesemir and now Eskel...

“You’re strong.” The fool kept on. “I know you think you’re evil and wrong but you’re not. None of what happened to you was your fault and you have every right in the world to be angry still...You push through that anger, though. You keep fighting it, Lambert. You keep helping people even when they spit in your face and call you mutant.”

“I want their coin.”

“I don’t believe that.” Eskel refused, and suddenly a rough, massive, hand caressed Lambert’s chin, tilting his head upward so that he had no choice but to stare into Eskel’s wanting eyes. “You could run from this life.” His brother reminded him. “No one’s forcing you to be a witcher anymore...You could find someplace nice and quiet and settle down. Make a living some other way...but you don’t. You choose to help people. You choose to fight for the innocent that can’t protect themselves. You hate wicked things. You hate evil. You ARE good, Lambert. You are.”

A long, silent, breathless moment passed between the two and then Eskel moved to kiss Lambert, who didn’t push him away.

“You could do better...” Lambert grunted at the older wolf, pulling back from his lips for just a moment.

“Nobody else for me.” Eskel breathed between kisses. “Nobody but you.”

“Eskel...” Lambert swallowed down a sob.

“Let me mate you.” Eskel whispered, pressing his face into the crook of Lambert’s neck and breathing his scent in deep. “Please...”

Lambert blinked out a few stray tears and fell back onto the bed, pulling Eskel with him.


End file.
